The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle - Chapter 6

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle

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◈ The Wandering Knight and the Moving Castle ◈

Chapter 6: The One Who Understands Three Worlds (6)

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In his previous life, Eugene had not been a soldier who served honorably beneath the sun.

He had been the kind of soldier who hid in the shadows, staining his hands with blood and filth.

He could not wear a proud uniform or pin the medals he had earned to his chest, but he still took pride in his work.

In peaceful times, people like him served the national interest. Someone had to do it.

Still, one thing weighed heavily on him.

“You’ll die and go to hell!”

“You Korean bastard! May heaven punish you! You’ll never make me talk!”

“You break me, then treat me? Go to hell.”

Because of the nature of his missions, he was often present for a target’s treatment, after Eugene had broken them, and their final moments, when Eugene finished the job.

He received all manner of curses and insults in those moments, but people especially loved telling him to go to hell.

Had their words become reality? When he met an unfortunate death during a mission, a road to hell truly opened before his soul.

* * *

“!!!”

When Eugene opened his eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. It was a dream about his past that returned whenever he had nearly forgotten it.

Was it because hunting the monstrous boar and fighting Gopri had drained him so badly? Or perhaps...

“I’ll take it off right now, you brat! So that wine incident was real after all!”

...because he had used the Witch’s power inherited from his mother for the first time in a long while?

As Eugene grew older, he came to understand the Witch’s power that had seeped into his blood.

It was not something that could be explained in words. It was simply a power he came to understand naturally.

A Witch’s power could not be wielded by a man, but Eugene was an exception. It was probably because of the unusual experiences his soul had undergone.

He was the only being who had died, seen and experienced the world beyond firsthand, and returned to this world.

After washing his face with the water he had prepared, Eugene left his room in the monastery.

“...”

“Ahem!”

The priests he encountered avoided Eugene with uncomfortable expressions. He had already fallen out of favor, and he would soon be leaving anyway. Gopri, who had shielded him, was gone under disgraceful circumstances.

‘I should leave the village whether I manage to retrieve Mother’s belongings from the Sealing Vault or not.’

If the monastery that ruled the village had marked him this badly, Eugene himself might even be driven out of the forest.

Like a mill, a forest symbolized a lord’s exclusive authority over their territory.

A splendidly armed noble leading soldiers to hunt game was a kind of ritual.

It instilled awe in the people of the territory. “Ah, that is our lord. How frightening.”

Since Kingdom’s End was ruled by the monastery, it had none of that extravagant noble hunting.

A tradition had continued here of generously opening the forest to everyone, from hunters to herb gatherers.

Yet even that mercy might change now. At least for Eugene and Homi.

‘Wherever the two of us go, we won’t starve to death.’

With their bond, strength, and knowledge, they could weather the hardships of the world. They were no longer the powerless boy and girl they had once been.

Eugene headed to the village smithy. It was run by someone who had once made arms and armor for knights at a lord’s manor. Now that the smith had come to this remote village, the place was practically a farm tool shop.

“Do it yourself next time. I can’t keep doing it for you forever.”

“Yes! Yes! Thank you!”

A boy holding a screaming kid goat bowed repeatedly.

A bald, middle-aged man held a pair of castration shears. When he spotted Eugene, he gestured for the boy to leave quickly.

“Meeeeee!”

Neither male nor female anymore, the young goat cried mournfully as it was carried away.

Its wound did not bleed, likely because the blacksmith had cauterized it with red-hot tongs. It was a brutal method for such a young goat, but the blacksmith knew it improved its chances of survival.

“Welcome, Sir Eugene.”

The blacksmith greeted him respectfully.

“Your order is complete. Take a look.”

He brought over a pole weapon and handed it to Eugene. A short chain hung from the end of a long shaft, connecting to a heavy, blunt head. It was a long-handled flail.

Eugene had ordered it far larger and longer than usual to suit his monstrous strength, and it had been forged from solid iron to improve its durability.

As a result, it was incomparably more powerful than the similar flails of this world.

“Whew! In a knight’s hands, it looks terrifying. I mean, valiant.”

Eugene was someone who always prepared for the worst. He needed a versatile weapon for the day he left the village to travel the world.

“You’ve done good work. It came out much better than I expected. You’re a master craftsman after all.”

“This thing will hold up no matter how roughly you use it. Just look at the thickness of that chain. Even if Gord warriors swung their axes at it, they’d only leave a few scratches.”

Swords were expensive, yet more fragile than one might expect. It was also difficult to handle every situation using only a sword.

He needed a cheap, durable pole weapon, and the long-handled flail was an excellent choice. It suited Eugene’s strength and was easy to maintain.

“I’ve also finished modifying the armor you left with me.”

“Oh!”

The armor Gopri had passed down gleamed brilliantly in the light.

It was excellent armor, with a breastplate made of finely crafted metal plates and mail covering the arms to the elbows and the legs to the thighs. Even ordinary knights rarely wore something this fine.

Most used chainmail as a base and added various improvements. How much they covered themselves and what additional pieces they added varied greatly according to their finances.

Armor with metal plates fixed inside a vest, such as a coat of plates or brigandine, was also widely used.

“No matter how often I see it, its finish leaves me in awe. Even the armor I handled at the lord’s manor was rarely of this quality.”

The blacksmith helped Eugene put it on.

There was a large difference in build between master and disciple, but inheriting armor was not a problem. Like other armor, it was modular and divided by section. In the hands of a skilled craftsman, it could be fitted to Eugene’s body well enough.

“How does it feel?”

“Perfect. Better than I expected.”

He moved this way and that, but nothing felt uncomfortable.

“Wearing that, you look like a lord, Sir Knight.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

The blacksmith was not simply flattering him. Eugene was broad and manly-looking, and with armor on top of that, he looked impressive.

“Is there anything else you need?”

“I’ll be leaving the village soon, so I need tools and supplies to maintain my weapons and armor. I’m almost out of oil, and I need a whetstone too.”

“Well, that’s today’s business taken care of.”

The blacksmith grinned and brought out Eugene’s requested items one by one.

“I truly regret that you’re leaving. I never thought you were someone who would remain in a place like this forever, though.”

The blacksmith’s expression darkened each time he set down another item.

Personal goodwill aside, he regretted losing a powerful warrior and herb gatherer from the village. If Eugene left, Homi would follow him like a shadow.

“I can’t promise when, but we’ll meet again someday. Until then, stay well.”

“I pray that news of your fame reaches even this countryside, Sir Eugene. Only in my heart, of course.”

“Right. Don’t ever let the monastery priests hear you.”

After paying for the goods, Eugene held out his right hand. The blacksmith smiled and gripped it firmly.

* * *

The next place Eugene visited was the hut in the forest.

Homi was easy to find even from a distance. She was taking a nap atop the oak tree beside the hut.

A simple sleeping bag made of linen stuffed with straw cushioned the hard branches. Homi enjoyed climbing to the top of the tree to watch the mountains or look over the village.

Homi stirred in her sleep, shifting a few times before abruptly sitting up. She must have sensed Eugene approaching.

Homi climbed down headfirst, gripping the trunk with all four limbs. It looked like an animal climbing a tree, yet there was an artistic beauty in the graceful curve of her body.

“Master has left.”

Homi covered her mouth in surprise at Eugene’s first words.

“He asked you to forgive him for leaving without saying goodbye. The situation wasn’t good when he left.”

His final lesson for his disciple, given with every ounce of his strength, his disappointment in the monastery, and his pursuit of God’s voice that had gone silent.

When Eugene explained what had happened, Homi’s face hardened in anger. She was not upset with Gopri, but furious at the monastery.

“I’ll be leaving the village soon too. What will you do?”

Homi clasped both of Eugene’s hands with hers. It was a declaration that she would follow him anywhere, beyond the mountains or across the sea.

“Thank you.”

When he stroked her head, the long, thick white tail unique to a snow leopard swayed excitedly.

The two ate lunch together at the hut. Since they could not take everything with them when they left, they laid out a lavish meal.

The ingredients were precious things that could only be found through the combined knowledge of a Witch and the nose of a beastkin.

Seasonings refined from herbs, sap, and mushrooms transformed even ordinary meat into a delicacy. The waterweed stew was full of freshwater clam meat that had been purged of sand.

“Leaving the village will be hard for a while. But if we work together, we’ll soon be able to make a decent home for ourselves.”

“Of course! Just trust my nose. I’ll make sure you eat meat every day.”

With her mouth stuffed full of food, Homi signed enthusiastically. Perhaps she intended to build up her strength, because she ate far more than usual.

After the meal, Homi grabbed Eugene’s sleeve as he tried to leave. Her eyes asked why he had to spend the remaining days in that uncomfortable monastery.

“There’s something I need to retrieve. I have to get back Mother’s belongings those bastards took.”

Homi released his sleeve at those words. Then she clenched a fist in an encouraging can-do pose, a gesture Eugene had taught her.

“You’re telling me to leave it to you.”

Once again, Homi waved until Eugene disappeared from view.

* * *

As Eugene waited for the day of action, he visited the prison at every mealtime to bring food to the Dhampir women.

He felt sympathy for the child, but for some reason, he also saw himself and his mother in the mother and daughter.

He did not want to leave a mother and daughter who clung to each other in hunger and fear.

Eugene could not rescue them, given his position. Still, while he remained in the monastery, he wanted to at least make sure they had food.

“Are you planning to starve again today?”

As the mother and daughter repeatedly thanked him and ate, the girl sat with her arms folded and her eyes closed. She seemed too weak even to want to speak.

“I don’t know how we can repay this kindness.”

After finishing their meal happily, the mother and daughter knelt side by side and bowed with their hands clasped together.

“What are your names?”

“I’m Lara, and this is my daughter, Lani.”

At her mother’s introduction, Lani bowed deeply.

“I’ll bring more tomorrow. Was it good?”

“Yes. It was truly delicious.”

Beyond gratitude, hope lingered on the mother and daughter’s reverent faces.

“Miss, please have at least one bite.”

Meanwhile, the little lady Lani held out the food she had saved and pleaded earnestly. The girl did not budge.

“I will not eat.”

“You must be terribly hungry. You’re far too thin.”